Parenthood
by theelderwand24
Summary: Part 3 of my 'I can' series. Set five years after the end of 'Nightmares'. Blaine and Kurt have to struggle with 5 year old twins and the fact that Cooper is still angry at them. But when Blaine gets some bad new, will Cooper find it in his heart to forgive him?


**Prologue:**

Cooper was standing over me; his eyes narrowed dangerously, his breathing uneven. Fear was rising up inside of me like an erupting volcano, he was going to get revenge for his wife, it was my fault, all my fault that she was dead, that Missy was lying in the ground, unable to start a family with the man she loved.  
Cooper's mouth was moving but no words were coming out, not like I needed to hear them anyway. I looked to my left and saw Kurt standing there, his arms folded across his chest, his eyes staring blankly at the wreckage of a car, the car that we were driving that night. I gulped and looked down at my own body. Blood was pouring out of my forearm; a shard of glass was producing from my arm. It did not sting. I started to breathe fast, this could not be happening.  
Suddenly a wail came from the wreckage of the car, a tiny baby wail. Fear welled up again and instinctively I walked forward. I crouched down at the flipped car and looked through the shattered window. Two babies were there, strapped into a car seat. But something was wrong.  
They seemed to be morphed together, like conjoined twins, yet something red was plastered over their naked bodies. It was blood, blood gleaming in the twilight lit air, blood of their mother, of Missy.  
Bile was rising up quickly; I could not tear my eyes away from them. Their umbilical cords were twisted together trailing into the front seat where more blood was pooling. I could just make out a shape, a pale shape. I allowed my eyes to adjust to the dim light and saw an arm, an arm that led to the lifeless body of Missy, my sister-in-law.

I started to scream, louder and harder than I had ever screamed in my entire life. I screamed so hard that the babies began to wail again. I was thrashing about; unaware of my presence, unaware that Kurt was moving again, that he was yelling at me.

'Baby! BABY!' he put his hand on my shoulder and held me in place as I jerked awake. For a moment Missy's dead body still swam in my vision, but as I blinked, the image faded into darkness.  
Vaguely I became aware of my surroundings and the fact that our twins were crying.  
'Are you alright, babe?' Kurt asked gently as he extracted himself from bed.  
'I-I-I think so,' I muttered dazedly.  
I began to get out of bed but Kurt pushed me back down, glaring at me.

'No, you stay there; I'll take care of them. Try to go back to sleep, babe,' for a moment it looked like Kurt wanted to say more but he blinked and smiled before he left the room.

I slumped back against my pillow and breathed heavily. It had been six months since Missy died and the twins had been born. During those six months Cooper had not even looked at me let alone spoke to me. He acted like I had never existed, he acted like I thought he would, like he believed that I was the reason his wife was dead. I gulped and looked over at my side table. There were two pictures on there, both taken on great days.  
There was the picture of mine and Kurt's wedding. We were holding each other and smiling our heads off, we looked so much younger and happier than we did today.  
The photo next to it was of the day we bought the twins home.  
There was Kurt and I holding little baby Missy and Connor in our arms, smiling and waving at the camera that Rachel was holding. Kurt was holding Connor who was wrapped in a blue blanket that the hospital gave us and I was holding Missy who was wrapped in a pink blanket.  
I vaguely became aware that the babies had stopped crying, Kurt must have soothed them somehow. He was always the best at doing that. He had become even better once the nightmares had stopped.  
I heard soft feet padding down the hallway and then Kurt was back, looking at me and smiling again.  
'They were a bit hungry so I fed them; they fell straight back to sleep.'

'That's good,' I said.  
Kurt slipped back into bed, as he did so the night shirt he was wearing rid up a little, exposing a long thin scar, one of the gifts the car crash had given him, along with memory loss as PTSD. Thankfully time had healed everything and Kurt was back to normal. But these days I feared for my own mind. I could not help but to think of Coopers face when he found out that Missy had died every time I had a spare thought.  
Kurt lay on his side and looked at me; I could feel his eyes boring into me.  
'Did you dream of Missy again?' he asked me.  
I nodded, not able to string words together to tell him of the grotesque images I saw of our children and of Missy lying in that damned car.  
'Honey, I'm worried about you' Kurt said gently. I felt his had grab my arm gently.  
I turned my head slowly and looked at him. His eyes were crinkled in concern, his mouth slightly parted; I could feel his breath ghosting over my bare skin.  
I smiled and gently pressed my lips to his, savouring in the touch, the feel of the man I loved.  
We pulled apart slowly.  
'I'm fine' I said in what I hoped was a convincing voice. 'Just a nightmare, nothing too worrisome.'  
Kurt did not look at all convinced but he said nothing.  
The bedroom door gently swung forwards and Max came trotting in. Max was getting on in years now, he had started growing white fur on his body, but he was still as energetic. He plainly thought that Kurt going to see the children meant that it was time to get up for he was now whinging at the foot of the bed, his tail occasionally thumping the mattress as he wagged it.  
I sighed and looked over at Kurt. He had somehow fallen back to sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly as he breathed. I smiled and pulled the covers off of my body and headed to Max who bounded at me, licking my feet and wagging his tail furiously.  
I chuckled and led him out of the room. On the way down the hall I paused in the open door of Missy and Connor's room. I saw the form of them two sleeping in their own cribs, looking as peaceful as their father, not knowing or at this moment caring that their mother was dead because of me. I shook my head and led Max out to the back door.

He sprinted off into the yard. I stood there, arms folded against the cool night air, breathing in through my nose and desperately tried to forget about Missy.


End file.
